Kyoya's Eyes
by TacticianZephine
Summary: An incident with Haruhi's school bag destroys Kyoya's glasses, and he's forced to wait for a replacement pair. Tamaki's concern for his friend leads to Kyoya shutting out his attempts to help him even more than usual.
1. Chapter 1

"Hikaru, don't throw that! Give it back!"

"You'll have to catch it if you want it back, Haruhi." Hikaru lobbed Haruhi's bag over her head to his twin, who caught it and hopped up onto a couch.

"Now it's over here, Haruhi!"

"Give it back!"

The older members of the Host Club did nothing to stop the twins from messing with Haruhi's things, in fact, most of them were working on homework. Only Honey wasn't, and as expected, he was too busy chowing down on a chocolate cake. The kind that was delivered by a man in nice clothes, in a nice box which, without fail, turned Kyoya nearly green with the thought of how much it cost.

"Gotta catch it, Haruhi!"

"Too slow! Now I have it!"

"Give me my bag!"

Unnoticed by any of the First-Years, the vice-president rose from his seat, crossing the room to his own schoolbag, kneeling to retrieve something from it. He never did locate his quarry, however, because several things happened at once.

First, Hikaru threw Haruhi's bag to his brother. Second, Kaoru was unprepared for the weight of the bag, and was knocked backwards. Into Kyoya. Third, the bag smacked against the side of the dark-haired Host's head, the weight of Haruhi's school things, added to that of Kaoru, sending him sprawling sideways and his glasses spinning in a completely different direction.

The other Hosts rushed into action, Tamaki sliding to check on his friend, Honey and Mori leaping up to search for Kyoya's missing glasses, and the First Years snapping out of their disbelief.

"Kyoya, are you okay?!" Tamaki panicked.

"... well, I'm not unconscious." Kyoya sat up, gingerly pressing a hand to the side of his head. "And I'm not bleeding."

"Can you see alright, Kyo-chan? You got hit pretty hard..." Honey worried from across the room.

"Well, I can't answer that accurately until I find my glasses." His hands brushed over the floor in his immediate area, and he frowned a little when they weren't close.

"Don't worry, Kyo-chan! We're looking for them!"

"We're looking too!" Hikaru delcared, nudging his fellow First Years. "Come on, you two, help Kyoya-senpai find his glasses!"

Haruhi and Kaoru nodded, moving off to search. Tamaki left his friend's side to join the search, and Kyoya himself just remained where he was, whether because he couldn't see or because of his head, no one could immediately tell. His contribution to the moment involved rolling his eyes at all of them and not making any further comment.

"D'you think they could've gone out the window?"

"No, he wasn't anywhere near the window!"

"Just saying!"

Haruhi didn't add to the noise, walking slowly around the room, looking at the floor to hunt for the dark-haired Host's glasses. But unfortunately, the noise stopped at the worst possible time.

The room went dead silent just in time to hear the unmistakable sound of a pair of glasses being stepped on.

Being broken.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" Haruhi apologized for the umpteenth time, holding Kyoya's shattered glasses in her hands like a deceased pet. "I'm sorry!"

"... Give them here," Kyoya said evenly, holding out his hand for the remains of his glasses. The female Host shakily relinquished them, and the Second-Year held them rather close to his face to assess the damage. "... the lenses are useless, even if there wasn't glass missing, I wouldn't be able to see. One arm is broken off, probably weakened by the blow to the side of my head. I won't know for about an hour, but I may very well be concussed. This could be a very big problem for you, Haruhi."

"But... it was an accident! They were throwing my bag around, why aren't you glaring slightly-to-the-left-of them?!"

"Haruhi has a point, Kyoya," Tamaki pointed out. "Why aren't you upset with Hikaru and Kaoru?"

Kyoya ignored the question. "This was my spare pair; we're still waiting on the replacement for the pair your horseplay destroyed last week. My optometrist can't be rushed when it comes to my glasses. My prescription is exceedingly unique."

"Kyo-chan has very bad eyes!" Honey chimed.

"Almost as bad as your teeth would be if you don't brush them," Mori rumbled.

"Takashi..."

Kyoya put the sad remnants of his glasses into the pocket of his blazer, then pushed his bangs out of his eyes. "I'll have to call him to check up on the progress and request yet another pair."

His cell phone was already in his hand, ringing up one of his speed dials. The Hosts stayed very quiet, as they usually did whenever their Shadow King's cell phone was even visible.

"Hello, this is Kyoya Ootori... Quite well, thank you... I'm calling concerning my family's last order. I need to know what the current status of it is... that long?... no, that's fine. I also need to request a second pair, as my original spares have also been irreparably damaged... completely broken, that's correct... the left arm is completely snapped off... yes, so you can see why I would be in such a rush for the new pair."

Haruhi looked at the floor. She'd paid off her debt to the club, but as per her agreement to stay on as a member, she was subject to further charges, such as damaging another member's property. Which definitely extended to the vice-president's glasses.

"And you're certain there's no way to speed that up?... I see. Thank you." The despectacled boy hung up his phone, tucking it away. "There is no possible way for them to be ready before school ends."

"... can you still go to classes?" Haruhi asked.

The vice-president squinted at a point across the room. "... I don't think that's a good idea. I'll have to ask for a medical excuse."

"I'll take care of that for you, Kyoya," Tamaki nodded. "And someone will have to stay with you."

"I can handle myself just fine, Tamaki. I don't need a nanny."

"You said it yourself, you might have a concussion. And you didn't eat, so there's the issue of your blood sugar-"

"Tamaki-"

Haruhi watched the pair as they spoke, and a thought crossed her mind. For being the one member of the club who never took a sick day from school, Kyoya certainly had a lot of medical problems. Even more ironic when you added the fact that his family was prominent in the medical field.

"-least let me bring you lunch. I don't trust anyone else to do that, because they don't know what you like like I do."

"I'd simply tell them, Tamaki, it isn't hard."

"Kyoya, let me do this. As your friend."

The dark-haired boy's silence was taken by the blond to mean "yes," and Tamaki stood up quickly, departing. Haruhi fidgeted, remaining quiet for a moment before she looked at the blinded Host.

"Yes, Haruhi?"

"... nothing."

"Why don't you go make sure Tamaki doesn't overdo anything. Knowing him, he's bound to."


	3. Chapter 3

Haruhi spied Tamaki very quickly in the refectory; he was eating his own lunch before bringing Kyoya's, which appeared to be something in a covered dish, up to him. Haruhi sat down next to him awkwardly, not saying much of anything, before...

"... senpai?"

"Yes, Haruhi?"

"Is Kyoya-senpai's eyesight really that terrible?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest. I've only seen him without his glasses in the morning, when he's tired and off-balance enough that it's hard to tell if he can see alright or not. He really only takes them off during the day to clean them or to make sure they don't get damaged. I say his eyes are terrible because I've seen him panic if he can't find his glasses. He doesn't know I've noticed, but I have."

"Oh. I mean, he could see well enough on that trip to Okinawa... he wasn't wearing his glasses at all..."

The Host King said nothing immediately, finishing the food that was in his mouth before he opened it. "This year's actually been pretty hard on Kyoya's glasses."

"How so?"

"Mostly, it's been people crushing them when he takes them off for a minute. He'd taken them off to lean down and get something from his bag in class, because you know, gravity doesn't always let them stay on your face. Two of our classmates were fooling around, and one knocked the other into Kyoya's desk, he slammed his hand down for balance, and crushed Kyoya's glasses. Incidents like that."

Haruhi was quiet then, not saying much of anything in response. She felt compelled to keep talking, however. "... Kyoya-senpai sure has a lot of medical problems, for someone whose family is so influential in the medical field. I mean with his blood pressure and all... you'd think they could afford to take care of some of them."

"Kyoya hates acknowledging that he isn't well, hates seeming, being, or feeling weak, so I've stopped talking to him about it. He also doesn't like people asking about his problems. It bothers him, especially when they don't ask him directly, so you can't tell him we spoke about this."

All Haruhi could think to do was nod.

"Look, Haruhi, why did you come down here? Shouldn't you have stayed with Kyoya?"

"He told me to come down and make sure you didn't mess anything up."

"I'm not that incap-"

"Yes, you are."

The pair turned quickly, startled at Kyoya's sudden appearance. The dark-haired Host had appeared directly behind Tamaki, unharmed after what must have been (for him) a perilous trek down from the music room.

"Kyoya, you shouldn't've come down here!" Tamaki worried. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine, I don't have a concussion, and the headache is gone. I came to get my lunch."

"Kyoya-"

"Tamaki, I won't have you or anyone else babying me. My eyes are fine. I'm taking my lunch upstairs, eating in the club room to finish up some club business, finishing my German homework, and then I am going to class. Whether or not you join me is your business."


	4. Chapter 4

They did indeed join him, and once his meal and German homework were complete, the dark-haired Host moved to leave for class. Tamaki, however, saw fit to rush the door just as Kyoya opened it.

"Kyoya, I really don't think that you should be going to class. You won't be able to see the blackboard, and you might be running into things. I know you don't like to not be able to do things, but-"

"Tamaki, that is enough. Get out of my way."

"Kyoya, no."

"You're causing a scene."

It was true enough, there was a growing militia of girls outside the club room, but they weren't looking at the blond Host blocking the doorway. All of them were gawking past the Host King at his shadowy counterpart.

"Is that a new Host?"

"Kyoya-senpai, what happened to your glasses?!"

"I guess he finally got contacts!"

"He's cuter without them anyway."

"Are you stupid? He looks so good with his glasses on, though!"

"He's still the best-looking Host, even without them!"

Haruhi nearly groaned. Kyoya didn't look that different without his glasses. In fact, he didn't look at all... right, without his glasses. But then she realized that these were the same girls who thought that Hikaru and Kaoru's "brotherly love," Mori's aloofness to the point of almost being cold, and Tamaki's veritable lava flow of false compliments were enchanting.

Kyoya himself was slowly getting more and more annoyed-looking by the second, not moving or looking at the boy in front of him. His voice was hard, a cold steel blade, as his words issued forth. "Tamaki. Get out of my way."

"Kyoya-"

The dark-haired Host elbowed past him, walking slowly into the hallway, into the crowd of girls. All of them swooned as Kyoya made his way past them, but he paid them no mind. He kept a hand on the wall to guide himself along, and for a moment, Haruhi thought that Kyoya was going to be able to manage by himself.

That is, until he hit the staircase.

Kyoya missed the first step, and that was the end of his facade. His bag dropped down the stairs, and he caught the banister, his long legs tangled beneath him and his free hand shooting out to catch himself on the step beneath cooing girls had hushed. None of them made so much as a peep. Tamaki rushed to his friend's aide, but found himself knocked away as soon as he reached for Kyoya. He and Haruhi both watched motionlessly as Kyoya pulled himself up and continued down the stairs. He reclaimed his bookbag, continuing down the stairs and out of sight.

Tamaki sighed, just loudly enough for Haruhi to hear. "... I worry about him."


	5. Chapter 5

One impossible class and several minor collisions with inanimate objects later, Kyoya was strolling out of his German classroom. His head was killing him from trying to function while blind, that headache made worse from trying to read without his glasses. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, shutting them to protect his eyes from the light and blurriness, even if it was only for a moment.

"Kyoya?"

Damn. He hadn't been quick enough, and now Tamaki had seen him. Now he had to pretend he didn't hear him, and start walking toward the-

"Kyoya!"

_Just keep walking, Kyoya. Just keep walking_, he chanted in his head. It was his last class of the day, and he just needed to make it outside to where Tachibana, Aijima, and Hotta were waiting with the car. All he needed to do was-

"Kyoya!"

And suddenly Tamaki had seized his arm, tugging him to a stop. "Kyoya, I finally found you. Can we talk?"

"Tamaki, I have places to be."

"I'm coming to you as the president of your club, and as your friend. We're all concerned about how little regard you seem to have for your own health. Which, frankly, Haruhi finds ironic, considering what your family is involved with."

"My car is waiting outside, Tamaki, I don't have the time for this right now." The dark-haired Host tried to edge around the blond, but Tamaki had been smart enough to catch him nearly against a wall. "Tamaki."

"This is important."

"... you have until I make it out the front door. Go." Kyoya wove around Tamaki on the other side and started down the staircase, thankful for the lack of crowd noise and blue uniforms around them as he felt around with each foot for the next step he had to take. At the very least, only Tamaki was here to see his vulnerability. "I'm waiting, Tamaki."

"... I don't think you understand how much the rest of the Host Club cares about you. How much we want to help you. You block us out and never come to us for help, even when you help us when we're in need. You're not stupid, Kyoya, you know you're only making it worse."

"... this isn't a discussion to be having right now."

"Kyoya, I just want you to know that you can come to us for anything. You need to know that, and I don't think you do."

"Alright, I understand, conversation over."

"... why don't you ask us for help? You don't ever ask us to help you when you need it, and that tells me that you don't trust us, that you don't trust me. I'm your best friend, Kyoya, if you can't come to the club for things, you should be able to at least come talk to me. Why, Kyoya?"

"Tamaki-"

"Kyoya, answer me!"

Kyoya said nothing, then, "... why are you doing this, Tamaki?"

"Because I love you, you bastard, now why won't you talk to me."

A very pointed, nearly dead-on glare from the dark-haired Host. It looked as if he wasn't going to speak again, but when he did, his voice was a poison-dipped blade held to Tamaki's throat.

"You want to know why I don't ask for help? Because I don't need it. Weakness is only a state of mind, easily overcome by continuing on with life as usual, never relying on anyone else to 'help you through it.' My vision is of little importance in the grand scheme of things, and the same thing goes for my blood pressure."

Tamaki was completely silent. His eyes were wide in disbelief and he put a hand out to try to catch Kyoya's shoulder. "Kyoya..."

The blond was successfully dodged as Kyoya stepped off of the staircase and headed toward the door. "As for why I don't come to the club for help? All of you have more pressing concerns. Financial needs, family troubles, graduation, personal demons. I don't accept things from people who can't afford to give them, I especially don't accept help from people who need it more than I do. It's only going to do damage in the long run."

"Kyoya, you can't treat your _health_ like a _business matter_. Your vision isn't an asset that you can _replace_. Your vision is a sense. Something you're born with. Your blood pressure is something you're _born with_. You might take care of these things all the time, but when they act up, you just deny that it's happening! And what about your stress problem? How are you going to fix that?"

"... leave it alone, Tamaki." His hand found the smooth relief of the door handle and pushed it open, stepping into the sunlight.

Tamaki saw his friend physically recoil from the sunlight, not unlike Nekozawa, and moved forward. "Kyoya-"

"I said leave it alone, Tamaki." Kyoya made his way less-than-gracefully to the waiting shape of the car in front of the building, where a man with light brown hair was waiting to open the door for him.

Tamaki watched as the man took Kyoya's bag, bracing a hand against the top of the doorframe so the dark-haired boy wouldn't hit his head, and watched as Kyoya climbed into the car. As the limousine drove away, he sighed softly, strolling toward his own car.


	6. Chapter 6

Monday found Kyoya strolling into the club room, new glasses in place. Tamaki got up and ask how Kyoya was feeling. However, the eyes behind those glasses discouraged him from doing so. It was Hunny-senpai that did, however.

"Kyo-chan! How are you!"

"... I'm quite well, thank you, Hunny-senpai. Much better than Friday."

Tamaki nodded in greeting at Kyoya, and the dark-haired boy took his place at the table, pulling out his laptop. "Good afternoon, everyone."

It was incredibly clear to Tamaki that the shadowy Host was not going to discuss what happened on Friday. Even to hear Tamaki apologize for interfering as much as he did. Especially not in front of the rest of the club. As usual, Kyoya had meant every word of what he had said in the hallway, and would not take it back.

And that was their friendship, he supposed. Kyoya would be harsh and biting when he was vulnerable, but Tamaki would forever try to help him when he insisted he didn't need it.

But in the end, Kyoya usually did.


End file.
